pt the cook and the butler to help in the search
for Isabelle. He and the chauffeur and Ann conducted scouting parties in
all directions.

"Where's Wally, Max?" inquired Mrs. Page.

"He's dashing around somewhere looking for Isabelle. She's lost."

"Lost? But where is the jewel who looks after her? Wally told me yards
about her."

"I sent her on an errand, and Isabelle got away. She can't have gone
far."

"Do you share Wally's enthusiasm over the new governess?"

"I do not," replied Mrs. Bryce, adding, "Wally has become a passionate
parent."

"Whatever started him?"

"_I_ did, worse luck! You know how all the useless men in the world dote
on telling a woman about her duties? Now Wally's only job is to invest
money in the wrong things, but he is full of ideas about being a
mother."

There was general mirth at this point, on the part of the guests.

"I was so moved by his remarks that I dumped my cares upon him for the
summer. He is outrageously superior about himself as parent. _He_ has
found the perfect governess, _he_ discovers that our offspring has a
brain; you should hear him go on."

"I have," protested Mrs. Page. "He used to make love to me, but now he
tells me his domestic problems."

"He has the entire house upset now, because she has run off, but when he
finds her, he won't have backbone enough to spank her," laughed Mrs.
Wally.

"It always amuses me how parents agonize over the lost child, and spank
it when it's found," said Martin Christiansen, the guest of honour at
the tea.

"Not being a parent you don't realize that there is a large, well-defined
body of parentisms. We all say the same things, do the same things to
children, instinctively and without thought," Mrs. Page assured him.

"Puts you at such a disadvantage with your child, for the youngster
thinks freshly, doesn't it, Mrs. Bryce?"

"I know mine thinks freshly--she's a brat! I keep out of her way,
myself," remarked his hostess.

Presently dusk fell and still no signs of the child. Wally came back to
telephone the police stations of the towns near them. He barely glanced
at the laughing group on his terrace, but Mrs. Page spied him, and came
to call out:

"Found her yet, Wally?"

"No."

"Better come have your tea, Wally," Mrs. Bryce suggested.

"Damn," said Wally, under his breath, as he hurried into the house
without any reply.

"Had we not better go? Aren't you anxious, Mrs. Bryce?" inquired
Christiansen.

"Oh, n